The Windy Waters: Night Two

Below Deck - Aboard the Windy Waters

Its to be expected, the conditions of the cabins and lower decks. Bottom line: its cramped. With narrow passageways, the quarters are pretty tight, with every groan of the wooden hull echoing throughout her midst. The captains cabin seems spacious enough, though still nothing compared to larger ships that might see the waters of the world. The actual crew galley is also narrow, with beds built upon each other, utilizing as much space as possible; not at all luxurious. The passenger quarters, often used by the second in command or any high officers, often have a secured cot, a basin, and a small table and chair. The dining galley is at least one of the open spaces below deck, becoming host to all the crew during meal times with elbow room to spare, benches and tables all built into the structure.

It's well past dinner, and Pyriel has just gotten done singing for the crew and passengers this, the second day at sea. His stomach was still bothering him of course, so he was sticking to water and bread for the most part, and had managed to keep it down. At least he wasn't starving and exhausted. He makes his way back to his cabin, pausing before Ryeokie's room. Then the pause becomes a linger. A flush creeps across his cheeks suddenly as he realizes what he's doing and his jaw sets. He grumbles to himself as he continues on, opening his own door instead and setting his guitar down inside.

Ryeokie /isn't/ in his room. He had been out in the crow's nest, setting up for tonight's observation times but after finishing up he was heading back. The crafter turns a corner, entering the hall just in time to see a fidgety Py standing in front of his door before heading off. Long legs take the crafter past other rooms and in front of Pyriel's. A hand reaches up, giving a quick knock before Ryeokie steps inside, completely uninvited. "Hey stranger."

Pyriel is sitting on the tiny bed inside. There was barely enough room for one person in there, nevermind tall uninvited guests. The blond has his hair pulled back again in that tiny little runnertail to keep bangs and hair out of his face. He looks up as Ryeokie knocks and lets himself in, a frown setting his lips downwards, before his gaze flickers off to the corner of the room. It wasn't far. "Hey." he states, and then goes quiet again. His voice was a little hoarse thanks to all the requests, but nothing a good night's sleep wouldn't fix.

The room /looks/ cramped and uncomfortable, and the tall crafter is somewhat unwilling to go in. But that quick aversion of the eyes…and the fact that they haven't seen much of each other makes him do otherwise. Ryeokie closes the door behind him and steps over to the bed, grabbing a spot right next to Pyriel and shooting him a smile. "They've been workin you half to death huh? At least that means they like you…of your voice at least." Glasses are pushed up and Ryeo smirks at the harper before leaning back.

There was enough room for sleeping and storing his stuff, which was all that Pyriel used the room for. He scoots a little away from the starcrafter as he sits and leans back against the wall that the bed is pushed up against. "I'm working hard. It's what a Harper does." he says, going very red for some reason as he says this. Though he is not going to clue Ryeokie in as to why exactly that is. His boycrushes were his own.

Ryeokie notices that blush creeping up on the boy's face, and laughs. "Looks like someone is finally accepting the authority figures…or just enjoying the spotlight." Mhm, the crafter had noticed some of those interactions going on when the ship was leaving. "Just don't go and lose your voice or make your fingers bleed. It'd be of no help to anyone."

Pyriel goes completely red at what the older boy says, fidgeting and then yanking the tie out of his own hair. Yes, that's distracting enough. No need to think any further about authority figures, or their beautiful smiles. A wince and the apprentice harper shakes off the further reminder that has just popped into his head, his lips drawing down into a deeper frown. "Whatever." Which was his answer for most things that bothered him. He pockets the elastic and turns so that his back is against the headboard of the bed, one hip crushing his pillow between them. "I ain't stupid Ryeokie." Just a little dense.

Ryeokie smirks, shifting his gaze onto the boy. "Did I ever say you were, brat?" The crafter knew better than to call Pyriel stupid. The crafter leans back on the wall now that Pyriel is off in the other corner. "So how's the sickness and stuff faring? You seem much better than yesterday…that was a sigh," Ryeo chuckles and shakes his head.

Calling Pyriel stupid would be a very bad thing, despite the fact that he calls Ryeokie that among other names insulting his intelligence frequently. He scowls at the subject shifting to his motion sickness. "My mom said I don't have my sea legs, so that's why I never got into the fishing thing with her. One of my older brother did though, he's still at Eastern." You know, where his Dad lives.

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